It Isn't Easy
by B. M. Reed
Summary: Tammy Haverford has everything she could ever need - awesome hair, dope clothes, and a jar full of business ventures to boot. Her hobbies include painting the town red with her best friend Maria-Claire, but what happens when Tammy meets a certain Ron Swanson and everything comes crashing down on her? Genderswap!Tommy; Genderswap!Jean-Ralphio


"Sorry, Mrs. Drizzy, for so much art talk; Silly me rappin' 'bout shit that I really bought. While these rappers rap about guns they ain't shot, And a bunch of other silly shit that they ain't got." Jay-Z, _We Made It_

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**Prologue**

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"_Damn_," Tammy says, letting out a low whistle. "You are lookin' _fine_."

Her reflection doesn't lie. She flips her hair back, specs of glitter sparkling in the light, and she smiles serenely as she notices. _Yet another ah-ma-zing business venture that will pay off soon_, she tells herself, refusing to think about the dent in her checking account that went toward all the glitter. But hell, glitter is sexy, fun, and smart! There are far too many practical uses for it to _not_ justify the purchase.

Tammy sighs, checking her phone for the time - almost game time - and heads into her kitchenette. Opening the freezer, she pulls out the tequila she has been freezing for this very moment.

"Can't hustle perfection," she mumbles to herself as she pours a shot.

Turning around, she leans against the countertop and raises her glass to the ceiling.

"To…hell, I don't know. To keepin' it real," she says, then downs the shot, squinting as it burns all the way to her stomach. She coughs and slams the shotglass down on the counter, just as her phone begins to ring _and _someone begins pounding on her door.

"Hot damn," she mumbles, and picks up her phone first, seeing that it is her best friend on the entire planet, Maria-Claire.

"Ohmy_god_ girl I've been, like, outside your door for twenty seconds! Open this shiz up! Why did you lock it anyway, I mean -"

_Click_.

Tammy rolls her eyes, setting her phone back down and making her way to the front door. As soon as it's unlocked, Maria-Claire pushes it open and slides in.

"Okay so, this is my plan for tonight," she begins without preamble, and Tammy takes in her outfit. Hot pink halter, denim jacket with zebra-print detailing, black mini skirt and zebra-print leggings. Tammy's eyes widen as she tries to contemplate if perhaps she should have worn something similar - she looks down at her classy Calvin Klein strapless dress and heels and shrugs. Maria-Claire is awesome and hilarious, but she dresses sort of like a Disney star most of the time, and that is so _not _a compliment.

Tammy becomes aware that the room is awkwardly silent and realizes that Maria-Claire is staring at her as if she had suddenly sprouted horns.

"Um, _hello_? Are you down with this sickness or what, girl?"

"Sorry - can you repeat that?" Tammy asks, sheepish.

"Okaaaay," Maria-Claire starts, eyes rolling into outer space. "So, like, this is my plan, girl. First off, the _Dive_ is _not _on the agenda, sorry. It's ladies night tonight, and I'll tell you what - that place will be _crawling _with thirsty ladies, and that is something we are not. So, I want to go to _Ice Club_ because I know the bouncer. I can flash him and get in without cover," she giggles at her own wit, Tammy supposes, and winks. "You're welcome. Then, we can bat our eyelashes at a couple snousers and voila! Free drunken party time all night!"

Tammy shrugs. "It's your call. I'm just letting you know right now that I'm not exactly feeling like flashing anybody tonight for a round of Hpnotiq."

Maria-Claire slaps her on the arm, hissing. "God, you're such an effing prude sometimes! But whatever, I got this. I'll take care of _all_ the flashing."

But she must have been only pretending to be upset, because her smile is wide and expressive, and Tammy finds herself smiling in return.

"Pre-game shot? I have some chilled tequila," she says, making her way to the kitchenette.

"Um, is it Patrón? 'Cause you know I only drink the good stuff."

()()()

_This is what being drunk feels like, right? This is what being drunk feels like…_

Tammy's head is spinning, spinning…the lights are so beautiful, and colorful, like sparkly icicles. But then she remembers that she is at the _Ice Club_, and suddenly the two thoughts put together like that is hysterically funny.

"What's so funny?" Maria-Claire shouts over the music. Tammy opens her mouth to reply, but immediately forgets what she wants to say.

"Dunno. Not important. Hey. Look at him," she says, pointing to the man directly beside her. Her finger pokes him in the arm and he turns, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh girl you pick 'em good," Maria-Claire says, practically pushing Tammy aside to talk to the man in question. Tammy hovers there for a moment, awkwardly, before making her way across the dance floor to the other side of the bar. The back door is propped open, presumably for smokers by the smell coming from the crack, and she leans toward it, cherishing the feel of the cool air on her face.

_Why am I even here? _she asks herself, trying to find reason in the cracks in the wall. A pattern, maybe. _There's a business venture there,_ she thinks to herself. _Finding shapes in the cracks in your old walls…there is…I know it…_

"Do you need help?"

Tammy jumps, turning around and almost tripping over her own heels. A sturdy arm reaches out to grab her and she steadies, taking in the person before her.

A man, sort of boring looking, except he has a sweet mustache. And a full head of hair, which is impressive, considering he looks about 35. Tammy steps out of his reach and smiles thinly.

"I'm fine, yo. I'm getting some fresh air."

The man looks uncertainly between her and the door that she was standing by, as if questioning her sanity.

"You _are_ aware that you are inside, correct?" he prompts her. His voice is commanding and impatient. As if he would rather be anywhere else but here, talking to her.

Irritation flames up inside her throat at this alarming realization, and through the haze of the alcohol, Tammy clenches her fists.

"Thank you, dude, for your help. I'm fine. Now get away from me before I call my main girl over here to kick your ass."

The man's mouth twitches, as if wanting to smile but deciding not to. He inclines his head and walks off, disappearing through the crowd to the bar. Tammy stares after him, not even for a moment questioning herself and her dramatic reaction as being too much. She sighs, flips her hair, and vaguely wonders if any of the glitter is still there.

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_This story is dedicated to the beautiful and talented Jordan, aka Dobbyisadinosaur. She basically forced me to write this, so all hate-mail should be directed at her. Thank you._


End file.
